Every Rose Has Its Thorns
by DracoAura
Summary: All Lexa wants to do is travel on a journey of self-discovery, but it's not easy as everything was predetermined for her since she was a baby. Which is, of course, thanks to her father. Then she meets an alien. It's a good thing she has the powers of disguise at her disposal, or the alien might not be as friendly toward her. Because he'll learn that every rose has its secret thorn.
1. Chapter 1

Lexa sighed through her nose as she stared from inside the open doorway at the wall of rain illuminated with the night lights of the city. Cracking her neck, she retrieved her wireless headphones and placed them over her ears. Pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her music until she came to her song specifically made for these specialized jobs. Hit play and set it on repeat.

A surprisingly satisfying blend of classical and techno music began.

Her eyes closed as the sounds of the world drowned out, and she could only hear the piece she created. She knew every note, every chord, every beat. She knew how to time her walks. How to time her thoughts to the personalized music, so that nothing else in her mind mattered. It was glorious.

She tilted at the waist to pick up her black guitar case. It didn't carry a musical instrument, exactly, but it was less conspicuous to haul through occupied places than her other options.

One foot after another, she strode into the rain in time with her song, bobbing her head along the way.

A normal person would scream at her for taking such expensive headphones into the downpour. But she wasn't exactly a normal person. Nor were these traditional headphones. She had modified them to withstand any type of weather condition.

Her specialized jobs didn't stop because of rain, snow, heat, or any other weather phenomenon.

She came to her predetermined vantage point and set the case down on the slippery rooftop of the twenty two story building. Rested a hand right above her eyes. Squinting through the sheets of rain.

The target's bedroom window stood forty seven yards away. The target himself was another four feet inside the room.

Here went to another night of work.

Lexa's brown eyes found the case, and she snapped it open. Nodding her head in time as she seamlessly assembled her sniper rifle. If she needed to, she could have her gun ready in under a minute, but there was no rush tonight. Even Dad told her to take her time.

So she did.

She kept her movements in time with her designed song. Enjoying the cool rain on her skin, which was her only exposed flesh. The rest of her body glistened with a black suit. Not that she needed to blend into the night. No one would know her identity if she was seen. She was simply another face in the crowd.

Closing her eyes to further enjoy her music, she constructed the rest of the weapon from memory. Before she could even speak, she learned how to become comfortable around firearms of all kinds. She began designing her own by the time she was five. Four years later, she created plans for her first robot. The preteen years rolled around, and she already had an internship with the leading robotics experts.

 _Like father, like daughter_ is what she had heard her entire life.

But she couldn't help wondering if it was a blessing or a curse. She loved Dad, but she knew her life with him was different compared to other children. She had known that since she was young. Her childhood was nonexistent. The other children were playing with toys, and she was taking exams.

How old was she now? Sixteen? That sounded about right. She didn't know. Honestly, she didn't care anymore. Age was but a number, and she felt more like an adult than a child. Was that a bad thing? She had no idea if it was a healthy mentality or not.

The only thing that mattered in her life was how well she performed. How well Dad liked her productivity numbers. What her success rate filed as.

Dad was a business man, after all, so it was expected. If her productivity declined, she would become a redundancy. And redundancies were immediately eliminated in the business world. If someone or something cost the company money because of performance decline, they were cut out.

Just as the man in the penthouse forty seven yards away had become.

These jobs were a constant reminder of how not to act around Dad.

However, these jobs allowed her to act any way she wanted. She could be free to be herself. Even if she couldn't remember who she was half the time. Conditioning wasn't exactly the right word, but she had definitely been groomed for a certain way of life. A reason why her powers were so important. If Dad changed his mind about a subject he wanted her to excel in, all she had to do was rearrange part of her brain to become overly intelligent on said subject.

There was another thing she liked about these hits. All her targeted people were so arrogant and flowing with money, they picked housings far off the ground. Well above the other buildings in Metropolis. It made sniping rather easy.

Lexa blew rain droplets off her face and placed the rifle on the building's ledge, the song rising into its crescendo. Her head moved back and forth, side to side with each swell. Of all the music she had composed, she didn't know why she picked this song to be the one she played during her assassinations.

It comforted her in an odd way. The techno music offered momentum, encouragement. The classical aspects gave steadiness, peace. Not that she needed to feel peace about the people she killed. She couldn't afford to have feelings for people who were nothing but tally marks on her production worksheet.

No, she couldn't have a soul for those kinds of things.

That sounded like a phrase filled with teenage angst.

She chuckled to herself and braced the sniper rifle against her right shoulder. It wasn't like she couldn't feel angst every once in a while. Her job was to use her powers to disguise herself as she killed off Dad's hit list. The pay was being able to live another day. And she was only sixteen.

The hit list was practice, he claimed. Practice for when it was time to take down the real, yet undisclosed, target. Because she would only get one chance. If she failed, he said she better pray her target killed her first. He would make sure she suffered until she craved death.

Good thing she made a habit of never failing.

"There is no room for error. Not with me," Dad always said. "Otherwise, the consequences will be so severe, not even your precious gifts can save you."

She believed him. Never once doubted him. Dad was a multi-talented man with nearly unlimited resources and money. He was quick to anger and slow to forgiveness. He could forever hold a grudge. Not to mention, he wasn't the biggest fan of her gifts. Even if he liked using them for his gain.

Now, that was something ironic about Dad. He was one of the biggest advocates for humans, but he had a severe case of the God complex. There is nothing more important than the survival of the human race, he said. He made it his slogan after the aliens made themselves known.

 _Never trust the aliens._

That was another one of the things he drilled into her mind. One of the many, many things. She had a whole list of rules to follow, and she better not think of breaking any one of those. Because, well, the consequences and all that.

So she stayed inside unless otherwise directed. Built her robots, designed her guns, and made her music. As much as she enjoyed her other…hobbies, the music was her favorite escape. Dad preferred classical music, so she became adept at every form of it for him. Techno and dub step were her favorite.

This song somehow combined the genres perfectly. It encapsulated her and Dad's relationship perfectly. And it allowed her to forget her grievances. Allowed her to focus on her tasks at hand. There were too many times she felt lost, felt like she was at the end of her road, and the music provided guidance.

The soul thing bothered her on occasion. She wondered if she even had a soul. She felt soulless. Yes, she had a purpose to her life. Many purposes, actually, but there was no spirit behind her actions. It was like she was just another one of her machines.

Lexa turned her face up toward the rain. She did honestly feel as inhuman as her robots. Her emotions had been stripped to their bare bones long ago. Not that she really needed them to get stuff done. Many told her it was a simply a byproduct of her "juvenile genius."

Right.

They didn't know how she had been raised.

Inhaling a deep breath of wet earth and rain, she squared up to the scope. The gun feeling good in her hands. She lined up her aim with the holographic crosshairs. Exhaling, she wrapped her hands around the rifle, index finger finding the trigger. The trigger was an old friend.

She had a completely straight shot to the man in the penthouse. It was the easiest assassination she could ask for. And there was nothing she could complain about. Not even the rain.

Her muscles relaxed, and she took in another breath. However, before she could fire her weapon, a sudden mass of blue filled her scope. She snarled. Backed away from her setup to see what was wrong with it. Froze. Her sharp exhale leaving a puff of smoke in the lowering temperatures.

A well-built man floated in front of her, dressed in blue and sporting a red cape. His arms crossed in front of the symbol on his chest, and his expression reflected his displeased disposition.

Lexa's instinct was to grab the pistol on her thigh and empty the magazine. Yet she knew it wouldn't do any good against this opponent. While she hadn't met him in person, she knew who hovered in front of her.

The alien who decided to make Metropolis his home. Dad made sure to engrain the alien into her brain. However, he had yet to equip her with the proper defensive tools. Did Dad think she would never run into the alien or what?

Superman broke the sound of the pattering rain first. "I regret that it's taken me this long, but I've finally learned to recognize the song you're playing with someone being murdered. You've gotten away with five so far. I won't tolerate any more."

She slid her headphones down around her neck. Tightened her dark brown ponytail. Dad was not going to be happy about this. But what was she to do? Other than talk her way out of it? Good thing she had years of pent up sarcasm at her disposal. "You really must be as stupid as I've heard if you've left five people die."

"I still don't know how you've managed to escape as soon as the gun fires. There's a reason my speed is called super."

"Believe me, I know. But magicians never reveal their secrets, do they?" She put a finger to her cheek. "So, let me get something straight. Are you inferring that as soon as you hear the gun fire, you go after the shooter, not the victim? No wonder so many people die under your watch. What kind of hero does that make you?"

He landed on the rooftop. "Is this a joke to you?"

"Do you see me laughing?"

"Killing men and women is a serious offense—"

"You don't have to tell me."

His head shook. "Very well. Why are you going after people who are in the upper class? Important members of companies and manufacturers?"

Her weight shifted to the other foot. "Wow. I guess you're not as dumb as you look. You figured out an M-O."

Superman's gaze hardened. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"If I told you, that would reveal my secret, and we already had the magician discussion, so I really don't know what to tell you."

"I'm taking you in. We'll see how talkative you are when faced with a judge and a life sentence."

Lexa hesitated. If she allowed herself to be taken to jail, that would be a massive failure. "What proof do you have I committed the other five murders?"

"That song. I've heard it all five time, as well as tonight. I know it's connected to you because I've never heard it before this began happening. And I can hear everything."

She stared him down. "And you think the judge will go for that? A song as proof?"

"I think a judge will believe my word over yours. Besides, I've caught you in the middle of this assassination attempt. That alone will convict you. You need to face justice."

Stepping back, she raised a fist equipped with a M48 Cyclone knife pulled from a holster on her lower back. Blew more rain out of her face. "The justice system is rather hypocritical, don't you think?"

"There's no need for more nonsense."

"The only nonsense here is the justice you'll never face for the lives you've taken."

This was enough to make Superman pause. "What do you mean?"

One of her eyebrows rose, and she rattled off lines she heard Dad scream many times. "Do you really not think? I'm talking about all the collateral damage you cause. The innocents caught in the middle of your fights."

His nostrils flared with a hard sigh.

She continued. "What about the slaughtered victims who will never be remembered except by their grieving families. The nameless who've been buried under buildings or disintegrated in explosions. Where is the justice for them? Are you going to go to court and serve time for all your involuntary manslaughter?"

Superman shook his head and closed his eyes, turning away.

In that moment of his self-reflection, she seized her opportunity. She didn't think she would be able to pull at his heartstrings so quickly. But she wasn't going to question it. Even abandoned her sniper gear on the rooftop.

Lexa dove off the edge of the building. She heard him rush to ledge. Heard him shout "wait." But she was already long gone. To him, anyway.

Part of her was afraid of this moment. When she would have to use her powers in his presence. She didn't know the full extensions of his abilities, so she feared he would be able to detect her. Apparently not.

She had taken the form of an army of ants and crawled down the side of building. Thankful the rain fell straight down. Also thankful ants possessed a hive mind, so she could control all the aspects of her body. One of the bad things about her powers? All of her mass had to go somewhere. And if she wanted the form of something small, it better be some kind of swarm with unified brain waves.

When she reached the ground, she followed real ants into a dumpster, un-phased by the sight or smell of all the garbage. Her sense of smell had almost become desensitized to most smells, so she wouldn't be terrified of decaying bodies.

After her cells multiplied to a certain extent, she emerged from dumpster as a small, mixed dog. Padded down the busy street complete with a flopped out tongue. Everybody liked dogs, right?

"Hey, get outta here, you mangy mutt," a man yelled, throwing a rolled newspaper at her.

Lexa's ears flattened, and she darted across the street and into an alley. Okay, so the dog disguise didn't work as well as she hoped. What was wrong with people? Not that it really mattered. Her main goal was to get home now.

Her eyes checked the night sky. A drizzle fell now. She didn't see the alien, but he knew there was a hired gun on the loose. He would be on a higher alert than normal. She would simply have to explain to Dad about how the alien got involved.

She mentally sighed and shifted into a large bird of prey. As eager as she was to get off the streets, she didn't know how badly she wanted to return home empty handed. She had left her post, left her gear.

Left her target alive.

The only thing she didn't know was how alive she would be once she gave the news to Dad.


	2. Chapter 2

After allowing her cells to multiply and shift back to their normal forms, Lexa dropped down from the tree she had landed on in bird form. Stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. Three various organisms within an hour. That might be a record for her. Not to mention the physical disguise while she set up her sniper gear.

One troublesome side effect of her powers was how tired it could make her. Compacting and multiplying the very structure of the body wasn't necessarily an easy feat. It made her peckish, as well, but she was a trained operative. She knew how to live without food. The waves of drowsiness were what killed her.

If she didn't sleep within a certain period of time of using her abilities, she became extremely nauseous. Which typically led to one to two hours of heaving. Another reason why she wasn't too keen to eat after shifting. The bad thing about knowing she had to sleep at some point?

How she changed her form changed everything else.

The need for sleep depended on if she assumed a larger form or a smaller one. Depended on the type of animal or person. Depended on how long she held the form. Depended on how quickly she changed from one appearance to the next.

A tricky subject to balance and master.

However, it wasn't completely out of her control. There was a fraction of a feeling before nausea set in. The feeling of a black hole in her stomach that sent all the nerves in her body tingling. Vomiting began with five minutes of that sensation. She had learned to recognize the beginning stages of her stomach's black hole. Learned to immediately take a potent sleeping aid and lie down.

So far, the black hole wasn't nearly forming, but she was not about to take that chance. She would simply grab a large bottle of water, a sizeable bottle of Nyquil, and head straight to her room. If she was sneaky enough, she could complete her tasks without Dad noticing. Then she could report in the morning.

Lexa tightened her golden blonde ponytail as she crept across the marble back patio. Her Converse padded noiselessly. Thankfully, Dad had yet to activate the security system because she didn't trigger any of the motion lights. However, that also meant he had yet to retire for the night. At least the mansion had too many rooms for her to care to count.

She didn't concern herself with the displays of wealth like Dad did. He campaigned himself as a common man in a designer Italian suit, diamond watch, and the best silk shirts he could find. If he started out his life as a poor man, that was his concern, but she wondered if he would eventually be labeled as false advertising.

Her bright blue eyes darted around.

So far, so good.

The years of martial arts training more than paid for themselves if they taught her to master the art of stealth. Although, she had never been able to sneak up on Dad. And she had yet to figure out why. He knew every step she took, it seemed. Then again, he had a knack for that kind of thing. A sixth sense, so to speak.

Lightly grasping the rear French doors handle, she eased it open just enough for her to slip through. Silently closed it.

This is where things could get hairy very quickly.

By her calculations, it was nearly one in the morning. Dad should be in his top floor office he proved to still be awake. If he waited for her, he would be in her office in the underground level. He hated the term basement for reasons unknown to her. Although, if he was feeling a touch for the dramatic, he would be in his study, sitting in his large, leather chair.

She released a hard breath through her nose. Her senses remained on high alert as she crossed the rear living room. The one of many living rooms. Why did they need so many living rooms? That didn't even count the various studies and reading rooms.

The hindmost living room led to the third main hallway. One that ran perpendicular to the front wall of the illustrious home. It was this hall that held the judgmental oil paintings of people she didn't know. She slinked by the ever-watching eyes. Thankful the second kitchen would be just up ahead.

Her back pressed against the wall as she peered around the corner of crown molding.

The massive cooking space was empty.

Lexa threw a glance over her shoulder and entered. Still cautious. Although, the mansion was as silent as she. Quick steps carried her to the refrigerator. Her hand slid up the stainless steel handle, and she popped the door open. Using her body to block the light coming from within.

Good. A bottle of water sat on the third shelf at eye level. Easily accessible.

Snatching it, she closed the fridge. Turned to the doorway she entered through.

Dad stood just inside it with crossed arms. His face expressionless.

She straightened and assumed a relaxed air.

Lex Luthor didn't move. "Is your job completed?"

Her jaw clenched and unclenched. What did she say? She had never been able to get away with a lie. And the truth would land her in a serious situation. Her left eye twitched.

He inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. "Are we not speaking tonight?"

"Do you have unfinished business I can assist with to be up so late?"

"Do you?"

Lexa dropped her gaze.

The bald man lifted a brow. "I know you failed your mission. Would you like to explain to me why?"

She ran her tongue around the inside of her lips and shifted her weight. "The alien showed up right as I was going to pull the trigger."

"Why didn't you take the shot sooner?"

"Because I didn't know he would show."

Lex allowed a short, unamused laugh. "Oh, I think you know the real reason why you didn't act sooner. And why Superman showed up tonight. Would you like to tell me?"

Her jaw set. "Because I listen to the same song when I'm sniping."

"Did I not tell you Superman has enhanced hearing?"

"You did, sir."

"That's what I thought. This was a mistake that should've been made by a five year old, not a highly trained operative."

Lexa looked up. Kept her tone even. "I could've taken the alien out if I had the right equipment. Why am I developing the kryptonite arsenal if I'm not allowed to use it? Logically, our meeting was inevitable. It would've been nice to have been prepared."

Lex rose both brows, and he relaxed his posture. "You are correct. Superman sniffing you out was inevitable. At least you were disguised, I'm assuming?"

"Yes. Unless he has unknown ways to detect me, my identity is safe. I change my appearance each time as you asked."

"Very well. While Mr. Santiago should be dead, I will slide the punishment as a gesture for my own blunder. Even if I don't think you're ready to take on Superman."

Her shoulders squared. "Aside from tonight's…disappointment, I have never failed you."

He displayed a barely noticeable smirk. "An acute observation. However, my point remains. As there seems to be too many factors for you to keep in mind."

"Yes, the song was a mistake, but it's one I'll never make again."

"No, you won't. But how many more mistakes will you make?"

She looked up yet remained silent. There were no faults in his points. The musical blunder was an oversight. This was true. This didn't mean she wasn't ready to take on the alien, though. She could kill him in a heartbeat, given the proper tools.

Lex unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt. "Oh, before you go to bed, I need you to do me a favor. Mercy has fallen ill."

Her eyes darted over him, watching to see if he would assume a threatening position. Bad things happened when he played with the sleeves of his button downs. A short scar through her left eyebrow was from a mild incident. A backhand with a multitude of heavily studded rings. Her eyebrow had never grown back the same, and it happened when she was six.

She frowned when she heard Dad's assistant's name. "What did you do this time?"

He paused, gaze lifting. "What are you insinuating?"

"N-nothing. I just, I just need to know, so I can take the best course of action."

His sleeve meddling continued as he rolled them up to his elbows. "Nothing much. I simply shot her between the eyes."

Internally, she was screaming, but she showed no emotion. He had prepared himself for a fight he would win. "I have requested you cease doing that. She can only take so much. Please be gentle with her." Clutching her water bottle to keep from slipping into a fit of rage, she headed down to her office, Dad on her heels.

Lex adopted a condescending tone. "If she wasn't so dense, I wouldn't have to shoot her."

Lexa had a notion to stop and lecture him, but that could result in her getting shot between the eyes. Dad's trigger finger was a very eager appendage. So she tried a less offensive approach. "Has she not been to your specifications?"

"I suppose not."

She punched in the code for the lead door leading down under the house. Even though Dad knew the code, since he was the one who created it, he insisted it stay locked in case someone broke in. She bounced down the stairs. The many, many stairs. "May I ask a question, sir?"

"I'll allow it."

"Did you happen to be drinking when you shot her?"

He paused too long for the inquiry. "I had a glass of scotch. How does this information benefit you?"

Her eyes fluttered with irritation. However, she remained impassive. "In order for me to provide a faster recovery time, I need all the information you can provide. How long ago did the incident occur?"

"Around two this afternoon."

 _It's been nearly twelve hours_ , she wanted to yell. Twelve hours was entirely too long. She would be lucky if she was able to save Mercy. Half a day had gone by without him saying anything to her. There had definitely been more than one glass of alcohol. He didn't have to be fully drunk for the gun to be his first resort, but he always waited to speak with her until he recovered from a hangover.

She quietly sighed as she reached the bottom of the staircase and flipped a switch.

The lights were the first to come on, followed by her array of equipment. Various indicators flickered to life, and alerts sounded to let the humans know the machines were online. The entirety of the chamber was powered on in under a minute.

Lex clasped his hands behind his back. "Is there anything else you wish to know?"

His daughter rolled her neck and flexed her fingers. "What changes would you like me to make? And no, I'm not making her anatomically correct to feed your needs."

His voice hardened. "Is that a touch of sarcasm I'm hearing?"

Her head sunk between her shoulders, and she briskly walked to a metal slab of a table. Expecting to be stabbed in the back.

Mercy lay on it with a peaceful expression. The bullet remained stuck in the exact middle of her eyes.

Lexa faced Dad. "I have everything under control from here. May you have a peaceful slumber."

Lex's eyes narrowed. "I expect her to be ready for me by five. I have a meeting at six."

"Yes, sir." She watched him leave. Waited for the hiss of the large door closing at the top of the stairs. Then she groaned, rubbing her face with her hands.

A dark form rose out of the shadows and lumbered over to the human being.

The shape shifter smiled. "Hey, Blade."

The robot didn't have a face, but she could tell he smiled.

Blade was her first. Her first artificial intelligence, that is. Hence, the somewhat childish name. She had designed more advanced robotics, more human-like ones, but she thought Blade was perfect the way he remained. Of course, she made upgrades for his software.

Not to mention Dad preferred the seven foot tall robot stayed expressionless and voiceless. Dad didn't like Blade. Even if the machine saved his daughter's life.

Lexa sighed through her nose as she braced herself on the silver table. Studied the bullet in Mercy's forehead. There was nothing to do but fix the android and reprogram her memory. Hopefully, Mercy would never be able to access deleted content.

She sometimes wished she hadn't made the android's intelligence so limited.

And there it was—why Dad disliked Blade.

Blade had an evolving, unlimited intelligence while Mercy was much more compliant.

Her lack of patience stirred when she removed the collapsed bullet. Was it wrong of her to think about not wiping Mercy's memory? Maybe even give her back the previous lives she had experienced? Was it wrong of her to want the android to one day go berserk on Dad? Perhaps.

One day, however, Dad would get what he deserved. Whether it was by Mercy or someone else.

It could be her.

Lexa's eyes lifted from assessing the damage to her creation. She could never hurt Dad. It went against everything. That was simply the tiredness speaking.

Blade held up two charcoal-colored thumbs.

She smiled at him. "You always know how to cheer me up, don't you?"

The robot nodded then paused. Held up an index finger and walked away.

Shaking her head, she returned her attention back to the damaged machine on the table. Poked at some exposed wires. With how many times Dad shot Mercy in the forehead, she had the fixing process streamlined. But she just wasn't up to mechanical work at the moment.

Her arms crossed, and she pivoted, sitting her butt on the edge of the slab. This was pointless. As soon as she'd get the android fixed, Dad would destroy her again in one form or another. She didn't know how to get it across to him that her machines weren't his personal punching bags.

She glanced at Mercy. "Better you than a living person, I suppose. Until they make it illegal to abuse robots. Which won't be for some time, I'm afraid."

Blade returned with a pillow and a blanket. He motioned to a grease-stained club chair.

Lexa rose a brow at him. "I can't sleep. I have work to do."

He placed a finger on his chest plates.

Both of her eyebrows lifted. "How are you going to do this? Your fingers aren't delicate enough for this work. Sorry, bud."

His glowing red eyes burned with an unspoken passion, and he clearly pointed at the chair.

She finally threw her hands into the air. "Fine. You win. I'll sleep. But I'm telling you, if you run into the slightest of problems, you wake me up. Otherwise, I'm powering you down for a week. Got it?"

The dark robot gave a definite nod. Held out the blanket.

A grin played with her mouth as she took the coverings from him. Yawned while making herself comfortable in the chair. She studied him when he busied himself with repairing the other machine, being as dainty as his muscular metal frame allowed.

Blade had been there for her ever since she brought him to life. He made sure she had food and water. Made sure she rested. Protected her when the time came for it. She was more of his pet than he was hers.

Yet, it was more than just that.

Sure, he took care of her living necessities, but he also took care of her emotions. He was the first one to cheer her on when she had a new scientific breakthrough. He was the first one to dance to the songs she created. The first one to laugh at her dumb jokes. Or, rather, mimic the impression of laughter the best he could.

In fact, he was the only one to provide her with any genuine support. Dad only cared about numbers, and the colleagues at Lex Corp only cared about their brand looking good in the public eye. The public only cared about themselves.

And Blade did this all without being programmed to do so. He learned it on his own. Knew what to do simply from observing the lack of others doing what was necessary.

She snuggled further into her blanket.

What did all this say about Blade? What did it say about what she knew of humankind? Because Blade clearly won when it came to being a kind soul.

It was rather sad a robot was better at being a better father than Dad. Who was, essentially, a machine.


End file.
